Is there a more uncomfortable place than the mind of the healthy visiting our elders in a nursing home?
Leaving a quick visit with a friend recuperating from surgery, I walk past two little ladies imprisoned in wheelchairs in the hallway. One can barely keep her head raised. The other is letting out a constant moan of pain.
The nurses nearby are attending to the critical needs of the day. Me, my pace quickens and I walk past the women as if they did not exist.
Even as I walked down the hallway I heard the voice of Jesus saying, “It’s not too late to turn back and talk to me.”
I did my best to ignore him, but ignoring the voice of one’s own heart has dire consequences.
I feel ill as I step outside the nursing home and into the blinding bright light of the sun.